I know God exists
A car ran me over on 1/6/94 as I walked my two dogs after work, hurling me through the air until I landed in a snow-filled ditch. There, I lay unconscious and bleeding. One of my dogs, scared by the sudden disruption, ran away (neighbors later found her). The other dog lay by my side licking blood from the gash on my left cheek. Two months later, I came home from the rehab center to an uncertain world. At the age of 39, I wasn’t prepared to become disabled or unemployable. To regain lost motor and cognitive functions, various therapists worked to make me whole again. Initially, reading wasn’t possible. Blurred vision, a residual affect from traumatic brain trauma, clumped words together so pages looked like gibberish. Short-term memory loss made me forgot most of what I read. To prevent boredom, I assembled jigsaw puzzles. One afternoon as I worked on a puzzle, the inner door suddenly popped open. It’d never done that before. Ever. Then the canister that I ordered from a pet food company started to play its silly tune. Dogs were supposed to come running when they heard the words, “Snausages.” There was only one problem. I was in the living room. The canister was in the kitchen. No one was home but me and my dogs. The canister was out of their reach. So who opened it? In the three years since I had the canister, it never opened by itself. Never. What was happening? There is an afterlife and there is God. No one can dismiss what happened that day. Yes, I experienced a significant head trauma but I’ll never forget that chilly day in the spring of 1994. Someone’s spirit from my past, perhaps my father or a dear friend both of whom died recently tried to communicate with me. They knew I had a hard time. Maybe they wanted to say you’ll be OK. I don’t know. I do know what happened. The door and the canister both opened on their own. A special presence was there, one that I can’t explain. There is life after death. God exists. I survived that accident for a reason. I’m on a journey that I continue to travel on. I re-invented myself through volunteer work. I became a writer, although it hasn’t achieved my goal to become self-sufficient. Years later I discovered Islam, which brought me peace, love and friends. Maybe my life has a greater purpose I’ll discover later one day. In the meantime, I’ll never lose my faith in God. One day we’ll meet again.